A few years ago I cycled something like three thousand kilometers trying to find the edges of myself. There was a lot of time for my brain to slip into neutral gear. When it does that, sometimes things happen. Here is one such happening.
Riding Time.
I ride with time at last
I muse over my motley past
That stretches clear as note of bell
Cast in bronze of knowing swell
Through rosy tint forgive my strife
Refocus on the beating life
The future like her green fig tree
Which fruit to pick and which to leave
Which dreams to scorn, which to believe
What to fight for, when to breathe.
I raise my gaze from the road ahead
The painted clouds roil and spread
Across the sky,
As distances, rarely touched
Challenge my eye.
I must stop and write it down
Before I pass this quaint french town
Or the sun will burn it from my brain
Leave me mute and dumb aga…
- Joe Blogs, 2016